by Lee Kilraine
“Absolutely. I thought we’d start off simple. I’ll have you click through a set of design slides and you tell me what strikes you about each slide. I’ll take notes, and we’ll begin to get an idea of where to start. Okay?”
“Ready, boss,” she said, resting her palms flat on the table in front of her, taking this very seriously.
I felt my lips twitch at her intense concentration but stayed quiet and began clicking through the slides. It was always enlightening what you could learn about a person during the design process. So many of our likes and dislikes stem from our childhoods. To our connections to the people we love.
A man who loved brick fireplaces because they reminded him of his home growing up. Or a woman who surrounded herself with chintz because her grandmother used to have a make-up bench she’d let the woman sit on and play with her makeup as a child. So much of design and what people surround themselves with was about connections to happy memories. To love.
Personally, I didn’t have those. But like I’d mentioned to Tessa, I had things I connected to my parents and the many, many trailer parks or public housing complexes we’d lived in that helped me know what I didn’t like.
Slowly, slide by slide, Tessa Madigan came into focus. Bright spaces. Sunshine. Traditional. Simple lines. Soft colors, but not neutral. Contrast, such as white and blue together. Or blue and yellow. Comfort over style. Over-stuffed couches with clean lines. Not modern. Although sometimes a little edgy. Sea glass. Soft birch wood. Light airy spaces in the public spaces. A little darker, more sensual in the bedroom. Deep purple and aqua. Dark gray. Plump comforters. Elegant lighting.
After about an hour of looking through photos and various websites, Tessa sat back, placing her hand on my forearm. “Can we take a break?”
“Actually, I think we’re done. I think I have enough to work with. I can put together a few personalized mood boards for you. Those will let us know if we’re on the right track.”
“Knock, knock. Got your dinner,” Eli said, walking through the door with a bag of take-out. Ash was right behind him carrying—oh, for fuck’s sake—a vase of flowers and two votive candles.
Of course the two of them were grinning like crazy ax murderers as they set up a very “romantic” mood for our meal. Fucking jerks. I believe I had mentioned that Thorne brothers took bets very seriously. We also didn’t have a hard limit for how far we’d stoop to win.
I kept my mouth shut. It was like that scene in the movie A Few Good Men and Tom Cruise told Demi Moore, both lawyers, that every time she objected, it only called more attention to the thing she was objecting to.
So, I sat back while my brothers set up our take-out Lo Mein, sweet and sour shrimp, and spring rolls like they were damn maître d’s at a five-star restaurant. Eli even moved to tuck a napkin at my neck and a dirty scowl from me nipped that in the damn bud.
But do you think my brothers stopped there? They did not. They pulled up chairs to the table and joined us. (This was not the issue.) No, where they kept going was when they invited Tessa over to my place. You heard that right. My place. What. The. Fuck.
“Tessa, I’m telling you, Gray has amazing style sense.” Ash was working through his order of Kung Pao chicken. “Most of the time when all of us brothers get together, we end up at Gray’s instead of any of our places. It’s got a nice vibe. Nice to hang out in.”
I silently ate my sweet and sour shrimp while wondering how much food he’d have to shove in each bite until his mouth was too full to talk.
“Ash isn’t exaggerating at all,” Eli said, pointing a chopstick in my direction. “Gray’s taste is both eye-catching and soothing. I can’t explain it. You really have to see it. I think part of it is his use of color.”
Exaggerating? More like over-selling? Pushing? Pimping? I’m not saying I didn’t have a unique sense of style. I liked it. I’m saying, I didn’t want to be alone in my apartment with Tessa. Maybe worse. Maybe I couldn’t be alone in my apartment with Tessa.
“I’d love to see it. I admire when people are bold with color. I like it in other people’s spaces, but when I think about it for me, I chicken out and play it safe in my own house. In other words, my color choices are boring.”
Ash nodded along with her. “I know what you mean. And seeing color on a website or in a magazine isn’t the same as seeing it in real life. You really want to see Gray’s accent wall in his bedroom. Fucking gorgeous, if you’ll pardon my language. But it is.”
“What’s the name of the color you used, Gray?” Eli prodded.
“It doesn’t have a name. I had my paint guy mix it for me.” This was true. I’d painted more patches in my bedroom than a designer ever wants a client to go through. I couldn’t find the exact color I wanted, so I had him create it. It took a little trial and error. Okay, a lot of trial and error, but I did love that wall.
Tessa blinked her green eyes at me, so innocent, so easily led by my brothers, the pimps. “I’d really love to see it. Any chance we can pop by now? I’m free.”
The image of Tessa, standing in my bedroom with her hands flat against my wall, her soft gray sweater and jeans on the floor at her feet while I took her from behind, flashed through my brain.
I flicked my gaze to Ash, and then over to Eli.
They both sat there grinning like fucking monkeys on acid.
I decided three was actually the perfect number of brothers. Five was two too many.
“Sure, Tessa. Now’s great.” Because later I’d be busy killing my brothers.
* * * *
My apartment was only a few minutes from the office, so it was a short drive. I wasn’t my normal talkative self, as I had thoughts of Tessa—a naked Tessa—on my mind. Thoughts I was trying to wrangle and shove in a box, then bury it in the back yard of my soul. Deep.
Luckily Tessa filled the quiet by talking about colors she remembered from her mother’s garden that she might like to see in her house.
I paid attention, but my heart wasn’t in it. My dick, on the other hand, was telling me it would be happy to handle the situation. Fucker.
After parking in the under-ground garage, we rode the elevator up. Tessa had gotten quiet too, but sometimes that was what happened in elevators. I was busy having a conversation with my brain, my conscience, and my dick. I wanted everyone on the same page.
Here was the plan: Go into my apartment. Turn on every light in the place. Do not offer Tessa a drink. Walk through the open family room, dining, kitchen space—quickly—while pointing out style items as we walked. Tell her to go on back into the bedroom to look at the wall, and when she came back out—leave.
A simple in-and-out procedure, so to speak.
Here was what happened: We took two steps into my apartment—I had just closed the front door—when Tessa turned, stepped in close to me, close enough to feel her heat, and looked up at me with her gorgeous green eyes. She smiled a tentative, sweet smile.
God, I liked her smile. I liked it a lot. Tried to bury it. Tried to ignore what it was doing to my body.
“Tessa, I think I should be honest here, and tell you my brothers set you up. What happened back there in my office—was pure manipulation on their part. They put on the hard sell, and made it almost impossible for you to say no.”
“I think I should be honest too… I know. I knew what they were doing, and I could easily have said no. I didn’t want to.”
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
“You know this isn’t about paint, right? I mean, that’s not why they tricked you over here.”
“I was hoping it had nothing to do with paint the whole way over here. And they didn’t trick me.” She stepped even closer, until her breasts rubbed lightly against my chest. She tilted her head back and whispered, “I have a confession. I came here hoping you’d kiss me.”
I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t th
ink twice. I dropped my head and pressed my lips against hers. She opened to me. I swept my tongue in, wrapped my arms around her and instantly pivoted, pressing her to the door with my body. I gave in to the need that had only grown each time I was near her. We kissed. A deep, wet kiss.
The sad truth was, I hadn’t been able to get Tessa out of my mind. Thinking of her these last few weeks had me hard and horny. And fuck me, because being hard, horny, and short on sleep was not going to win me the bet with Ash and Eli. And fuck me twice, because it was feeling like my dick didn’t care about the bet. My brain gave it one last shot. Client, asshole.
“No, Tessa, we’ve got to stop. I’ve got to stop.” I pulled my lips from her soft, sweet skin and took a step back from the temptation that was Tessa Madigan. “We’ve got a signed contract. I don’t have many rules, but I don’t sleep with a client. I never have, and I can’t cross that line.”
Tessa looked around the room wild-eyed, seemingly at a loss. Totally got that. I could barely breathe myself, let alone think.
“Actually, this isn’t a problem,” she said, her breath coming in soft pants, as her gaze whipped to mine and held me in place. “It’s not. Because you’re fired.”
Fuck. Me.
Chapter 16
Tessa
“I’m going to need that in writing.” Gray pulled his shirt off over his head and searched around for a piece of paper. He picked up an envelope off a stack of mail and shoved it at me. “Just ‘you’re fired’ and your signature will do it. Your initials even. That’ll be faster.”
Dropping my purse and phone on the nearest surface, I grabbed the envelope and pen. I was still working on my “M” when Gray picked me up, his hands under my ass, my legs wrapped around his waist, and moved us toward the hall to the master. This felt surreal. Exciting and breathtaking. I’d never felt sexual heat like this before. Like a carbonated drink that someone shook up and was about to open. Like something that happened to a wild, free-spirited woman. Not me. This was probably nothing for Gray. I mean, he did this kind of thing all the time. All…the…time…
“Wait! Wait…God, I can’t think. I’m supposed to ask you questions. Birth control? I mean, I’m on the Pill but…”
“I have condoms.” He set me down, taking his hands off my body, which I hated. Why would he do that? He pulled his phone from his back pocket and pushed a few keys, before looking up at me, his blue eyes so crystal clear and blazing hot.
He was eating me up with his eyes, but I knew I still had to ask about the other thing. What was the other thing? Right. “Oh! Are you clean? Like…you know…STDs.”
“Check your phone. I just sent you my test results. Clean as a whistle.”
I grabbed my phone from the end table where I’d tossed it on and checked. Oh, I checked. I may be trying to take more risks in life, but not that kind.
“Awesome. Oh heck. I don’t have test results for you. I’m sorry, I should have planned this better. Well, that’s disappointing. Now we can’t have sex tonight.”
Gray huffed a breath from his nostrils, looking like he was trying to reel himself in.
“Well, that was really, really idiotic of me. Holy cow, I haven’t had sex in over three years, so believe me when I tell you, I’m more disappointed than you are.”
“Tessa…” He stepped toward me with the sexiest grin on his face and the heat turned back up to one thousand percent in his eyes. He took my phone from my hands, tossing both our phones onto the couch without taking his eyes from mine. “…if you haven’t had sex in three years, I’m pretty sure you’re so clean you’re almost a saint.”
Thank God, because I was pretty sure I needed to make love to Gray more than I needed my next breath. He wrapped his hands around my face, tilted it up to his, and brought his lips down onto mine. His firm lips crushed mine, wild and hungry. While our tongues met and tangled, while my hands grabbed on to his muscled shoulders, he walked me backward down the hall. Into his bedroom. I think. I was a bit distracted. With him. He was all hard muscles and warm skin. A light dusting of hair on his chest.
I felt his hands at the hem of my shirt, lifting, pushing me back enough to get it over my head and off. The cool air helped relieve my overheated skin. He toed off his shoes and sank to his knees, unzipping my jeans and tugging them off, a leg at a time, while I used his shoulders for balance. And then he looked at me. At my body. And that was the moment I realized I’d forgotten about my scars.
I watched Gray’s gaze move slowly, following one and then another. He raised his eyes up to mine and opened his mouth.
“Crap. I forgot about the scars.” How could I have forgotten about the scars? I was so caught up in the man and what he did to me, that’s how.
“Tessa, you—”
I placed two of my fingers gently against his lips. “Please, Gray. I don’t want you to see my scars. Can you just see me tonight? Please?”
“What scars?” he said, and leaned forward and kissed my belly, his hands firm and sexy on my hips as he pushed me gently until I was sitting on the bed. “It’s just you and me tonight. Now, I’m going to slip you out of your panties and eat your pussy until you scream my name.”
My skin looked pale compared to his tanned hands. His hands didn’t pause or avoid the scars on my legs and body. They also didn’t seek them out. He simply worshipped every inch of my skin with his hands and mouth.
“Oh, Gray,” I whispered because he’d taken my breath away. “Just when I think I know you, you surprise me and—”
“Tessa?” He ran his hands over my thighs, in a long, slow caress. He gave me a gentle push backward until I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. “I live by the motto it’s better to give than receive. But also, when it’s your turn to receive, lie down, shut up, and take it.”
“I can do that.” Only I popped back up onto my elbows to look at him. His wide shoulders between my knees, opening me to him. “Wait, you’re starting down there? My feet don’t do anything for—mmm, oh…my. Never mind.”
I could guess right away part of Gray’s reputation as an excellent lover was purely his attention to detail. His hands and fingers and tongue were everywhere. The man took his time. He found spots on my body that I had no idea were erogenous zones.
He lightly bit my instep while his hot blue eyes burned up at me. Surprisingly, the exact moment Gray sucked my toes into his hot mouth, an electrical connection formed from my toes all the way to between my legs and I throbbed. I went hot and damp, and he hadn’t even made it to my ankles yet.
Watching his lips kiss and nibble their way up my calf and knee and thigh had me panting in anticipation. And while he used his lips and tongue and teeth on his way up one leg, his fingers stroked my inner thigh, working higher and higher with each stroke.
Just when he almost made it to my heat, he took a detour, meandering his lips and hands up to discover the angles of my hipbones.
“Gray,” I said, my voice oozing desperation and neediness. “I think you took a wrong turn.”
“You know we men don’t like to stop and ask for directions.” I felt his lips curve against my belly, before he scraped his teeth across my skin. “It’s okay. I like the scenic route.”
I did too. While his mouth was busy kissing his way across and down my belly, his hands gripped my hips while his thumbs stroked circles on my skin.
Then…finally…he was there.
Warm breath, smooth licks of his tongue, circling around my clit, over and over, as my hips began moving to their own rhythm. His tongue flicked my clit, fast and rhythmic until my whole insides were wound up in a tight, tight coil.
His hands stroked their way up my ribcage, to the underside of my breasts. My breasts are on the small side but are incredibly sensitive. Between his tongue on my clit and his hand on my breasts, my nerve endings were overwhelmed. Drowning in pleasure.
My hand
s reached for him, grabbing onto his shoulders and digging my fingers into his muscles while my lungs labored, all of me vibrating on a very fine edge. I was balanced on a quivering tuning fork and about to be whipped up into a tornado. And then Gray sucked my clit into his mouth as he pinched my nipple and I was tossed into the vortex of a powerful orgasm.
“Oh, God. Gray!” My body shuddered, my teeth chattered, and goosebumps ran across my flesh. It felt so damn good. Beautiful. Earth shattering. Heart stopping. It had been a long time, too long, since I’d had something similar to that. And by similar I meant what I’d had before paled in comparison. “Nice” didn’t come anywhere close to the sensations Gray had given me. When I could breathe again, I looked down.
Gray’s eyes were on me, watching me. “Christ, I liked that. The taste of you, and watching you come apart.”
He stood, sank a knee onto the bed, and covered me with his body. I loved the weight of him.
I ran my hands along his biceps, over his shoulders and his back. I used my fingertips, running along muscles and dipping into sinews, exploring, cataloging, and memorizing the feel of him. His hard muscles and smooth skin.
“Gray, you still have your jeans on.” My hand slid around to his fly, looking to fix that situation. But his hand covered mine, stilling its movement.
“Change of plans, baby. Anyone who’s gone three years without and wears battle scars like you, coming out on the other side still beautiful and strong—deserves my undivided attention.”
“But—”
He leaned down until his lips were a breath away from mine. “Trust me, we’ll get to me next time. We’ll fuck twice as long, if that makes you feel any better.”
“I trust you,” I whispered as his lips hit mine. “But I’m not sure I can feel any better than I do right now.”
He kissed me for a long time. And he was an excellent multi-tasker because his fingers stroked my breast while he thumbed my nipple. My nipples went tight, and he added a finger to roll them slow, and it was more than I thought I could handle. His large hand cupped my breast, squeezing it firmly, and it felt incredible.
